


About a Boy

by bbethyl



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, allusions to past kurt/chandler, kurt is a FATHER, sebastian is a father's worst nightmare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:29:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbethyl/pseuds/bbethyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian hates kids. But... maybe not this one. Sebastian's unlikely friendship with his neighbor's twelve year old son throws him for a bit of a loop.</p>
<p>Based on the television adaptation of Nick Hornby's "About a Boy".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. About a Cello

**Author's Note:**

> The first four chapters of this fic will closely follow the plotline of the pilot episode of About a Boy, to the point where the dialogue is even the same in places. I'm sorry, and please bear with me. I take the story into my own control eventually.
> 
> (Also, I can't promise regular updates, but know that I do have a lot written already, and I do have a good amount of determination, so please stick around. I'd greatly appreciate it.)

Sebastian Smythe was on top of the world.

The world had always been pretty kind to Sebastian. He formed a band straight out of college with a bunch of his friends, and although it didn’t last very long, he got his feet wet in the music industry. This resulted in him writing a Christmas song that completely took off (literally, the song was called “Runaway Sleigh”). As much as he hated the song, he kind of had to love it, because even years after it had debuted, Sebastian was receiving hefty royalty checks on a monthly basis. So now, thanks to his financial comfort, Sebastian was living the dream. He had no job to speak of, plenty of money, great friends, and a comfortable apartment in New York City, decked out with everything he could ever want. 

So overall, life was pretty good. 

Sebastian tried to remind himself of this whenever he was stuck anywhere with Quinn, his supposed best friend, for any amount of time. 

“I was up all night trying to get the baby to sleep,” Quinn mumbled, tilting her head forward so her forehead pressed up against the cold metal pole holding her upright on the subway. “He’s much more colicky than the twins were. And of course, Puck was absolutely no help. Neither of us could get him to stop crying.”

“Did you try drugging it?” 

“ _Its_ name is Mason,” Quinn said, matter-of-factly, looking up to glare at Sebastian, who wasn't even looking at her, focusing on something on his phone. 

“Whatever,” he grumbled, content to ignore her. 

It was silent for all of thirty seconds before Quinn began talking again.

“I’m so tired. I don’t think I’ve slept at all for the past six years. I’m pretty sure this is what death feels like,” she groaned.

Sebastian had heard this exact sentence at least twice every day for the past six years. 

“You should have thought about that before you decided to reproduce,” Sebastian replied, not even looking up from his phone. It was the same response he had given at least twice every day for the past six years. 

“I’ll have you know that caring for a child is the greatest honor a person can have.”

“I don’t know, Q. Can’t really get a Nobel Prize for parenting, try as you might.” 

“Can it with the sass, Sebastian. I’ve had enough.”

“And I’ve had enough of your complaining, Fabray,” Sebastian retorted, looking up as the subway screeched and slowed down. It wasn’t their stop, but Sebastian stood up to grab a railing in case someone else needed his seat. Quinn, predictably, stayed put. 

“Honestly, you don’t know how much our Sunday lunches mean to me. I swear, our time together is such a relief after -” 

“Oh my God, Quinn,” Sebastian interrupted, clearly ignoring everything Quinn was saying. He pointed out the window of the train at a figure at the station, waiting at the bottom of an elevator. “Look.”

“I swear to God, Sebastian. If this is another cute guy, I’m married with kids. You know I can’t look.” 

It was a cute guy. Of course it was a cute guy. But this guy wasn’t just cute. He was _hot_. This guy was tall, dressed in layers of black, but still short sleeved enough to see his arms, which were covered in tattoos. He was clearly fit, and his face looked like he was from a magazine. And that wasn’t even the best part...

“He’s carrying a cello,” Sebastian whispered loudly. “A _cello_ , Quinn. This is game changing.”

“I don’t get how the fact that he plays the cello is game changing.” 

“You don’t understand. A hot guy with a cello. This is every fantasy of mine beginning to come true.” 

“You have fantasies about guys with cellos?” Quinn looked exasperated. This wasn’t the first time something of this nature has happened. Not at all. “Sebastian, I don’t -” 

“That is one sexy cello,” Sebastian sighed. Quinn rolled her eyes at him.

“You know, I might be impressed if I had any idea what the hell you were talking about.” 

“I have to go.”

“What about lunch?”

“We’ll do it next week.” 

“Of course,” Quinn mumbled, mostly to herself, as she watched Sebastian just barely make it out of the train before the door closed. 

Sebastian shoved his way unapologetically through the crowd of busy New Yorkers to reach the elevator, reaching the man just in time. Sebastian stepped into the elevator with him, grateful that no one else was there. 

“ _Cello_ ,” Sebastian said loudly once the doors had closed, cleverly in lieu of _hello_. The man turned around at the noise, letting out an amused breath when he saw Sebastian standing in front of him, panting slightly from rushing over. 

“Oh, wow. Great, was that supposed to be a pick up line?” the man scoffed, turning away from Sebastian. “Real original, pal.” 

“I’m going to be honest with you now,” Sebastian said. “I’m a cello _freak_ , okay? I’m obsessed with cellos. So it’s one thing to be like, the hottest guy ever, but to be dragging a cello around…” 

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, and the man stepped out of it and began to walk outside to the busy streets of Manhattan. “That’s really nice, but I’m kind of-”

“Oh, you don’t believe me,” Sebastian interrupted. The man shrugged and kept walking, eyes fixed on the pavement in front of him. Sebastian followed and continued talking. “Okay, I can prove it to you. My favorite cello pieces ever. Kabalevsky’s #2 in “G” Major. It’s dark, it’s brooding, and it’s virtuosic. D’albert, “C”, opus 96, lyrical, mellow, haunting. But the greatest of all is the Dvorak Concerto-”

“-in B minor,” they finished, in unison. The man stopped in his tracks. His demeanor had completely changed; he was now staring at Sebastian in awe. 

“Oh my god,” the man breathed. Sebastian smirked. 

“So, as I said. _Cello_.” 

“... _Cello_ ,” the man replied slowly, with a growing smile. 

Sebastian stuck out his hand for the man to shake. “I’m Sebastian.”

“I’m Elliott,” the man said, shaking Sebastian’s hand. His expression was bright, until it shifted into a wince as he motioned to the building they were standing next to. “And I’m running late.” 

“Me, too!” Sebastian said quickly, thinking on his toes just to keep conversation going with Elliott. Elliott’s eyes widened with surprise. 

“Oh- oh, you’re a single dad?” 

“A single dad?” Sebastian asked, taken aback. Well, he was caught up in his lie now. He might as well continue it. “Yeah, yeah.” 

“Wow, well hi,” Elliott beamed at Sebastian, turning to walk into the building. “Great. We’re both late, we can go together.” 

Sebastian nodded dumbly, clearly having no idea what he was about to get himself into, literally. Apparently Elliott thought he was a single dad now. Sebastian shuddered at the thought, following Elliott up a flight of stairs. 

_Totally worth it_ , Sebastian reminded himself as he enjoyed the view. 

xx

Sebastian was barely surviving. He’d been in this single parent support group for all of twenty minutes, and he could already feel his brain caving in. He was sitting on a plastic chair, facing a bunch of other plastic chairs, in a circle. A fucking _circle_. He was in a group therapy meeting for single parents. Predominantly single mothers, with the exception of Elliott and another terrified looking father in the circle. 

The were talking about parenting techniques, the best brands of baby food, and how to deal with sick children. This was Sebastian’s own personal hell. 

The looks he was exchanging with Elliott made it almost worth it. Elliott was an active member of the discussions, piping up every now and again to mention something about his daughter: Lacey, eight years old. That’s really all Sebastian picked up, despite the fact that Elliott spoke several times, at great length. Honestly, Sebastian zoned out and took to staring. He prided himself in his ability to woo men with just his eyes, and that was his task now. A few times, Elliott would meet his eyes and lose track of his words, which meant Sebastian was getting quite close to victory. 

Almost. 

“How about you, Sebastian?” the woman running the group said, interrupting Sebastian from eye fucking Elliott. Sebastian cursed under his breath. “You haven’t said anything so far. Tell us about your child. What’s your child’s name?” 

“My -- my little guy?” Sebastian asked, looking shocked. He was sort of hoping to get through this meeting without talking to anyone, but it looked as if he was fresh out of luck. The woman nodded, and Sebastian worked quickly to come up with a name, any name, for his fake son. He spoke, the words sounding more like a question than an answer. “Mason.” 

Sebastian was surprised to see all the faces in the room light up with delight, aww-ing at the name. He looked over to Elliott, who was smiling as well. Okay, so this clearly wasn’t the worst lie he ever told. 

“And what’s your relationship like? What do you two do together?” the woman questioned. 

“What _don’t_ we do? Um…” Sebastian paused, trying to think. What do parents normally do with their kids? Honestly, he had no idea. His upbringing wasn’t exactly the picturesque American Dream family he assumed everybody else in this room was living. He saw very little of his parents growing up, and he didn’t have much of a relationship with his father that he could speak of. So Sebastian was going to have to get creative here. 

“We talk. Yeah, we hang," Sebastian trailed. He looked around to survey the room, and they were starting to look skeptical. He had to step it up and ditch the vague answers. "We do all sorts of activities together. Skiing, surfing, skydiving.”

“You let your child jump out of an airplane?” one mother gasped, looking at Sebastian with absolute terror. _Fuck_. Yeah, kids don’t do that. 

“Oh, well, we were -- we were low. It was a very low flight. You know, we were barely aviated.” Sebastian glanced around the room again. They were not buying it. Sebastian was running out of options, so he just said the next thing that came to mind, hoping that it wouldn’t be any more of a complete disaster. “He was sick. Sickly. So I was trying to cheer him up.”

“Oh, what does he have?” a mother sitting across from Sebastian asked, her voice sympathetic and her face clearly concerned. The rest of the room seemed to wear a similar expression. 

“Leukemia,” Sebastian answered, without thinking.

The group had an audible reaction of gasps and various sympathetic noises. Sebastian cringed as he realized that he picked the wrong lie. 

“Is he okay?”

Well, it was too late to go back now. 

“Well, they said that Western medicine, you know, couldn’t save him. So, um. So I took him to Africa. To a healer. Yeah. Sweat lodges, voodoo dolls, animal sacrifices. The works. And it worked. Yeah, the cancer is gone. It was a lot of work,” Sebastian said, looking up to catch Elliott’s gaze. “But caring for a child is the greatest honor a person can have.”

The room let out a myriad of _awws_. Sebastian flashed Elliott a smile, and Sebastian knew that Elliott was his. Hook, line, and sinker. 

xx

“Mmm, god, Sebastian… Right there.” 

Turns out that Elliott had a thing for Sebastian being a dad. Sebastian had a thing for Elliott. Particularly when he was shirtless and squirming underneath Sebastian. 

“You like that?” Sebastian purred as he nipped at Elliott’s neck. As predicted, Elliott was jelly in Sebastian’s hands. 

“Yeah, I-” 

Elliott paused mid-sentence and froze. Rock music was playing. Why was rock music playing? 

“Fuck, that’s my phone. Shit.” Elliott scrambled up from Sebastian’s bed to grab his phone, which was buried under a pile of forgotten clothes on the floor. “It’s my daughter’s school. Fuck.” 

Elliott answered his phone, and Sebastian noticed his expression became increasingly frustrated as he talked. 

“What was that about?” Sebastian asked when Elliott hung up. 

“I guess Lacey got into some sort of fight in school. I have to go and get her.”

“Wha- hey, we were-”

Elliott shrugged, scrambling to throw his shirt on and make himself look a little less riled up. “We can pick up where we left off some other time.”

“Promise?” Sebastian asked, sitting up on his bed as he watched Elliott gather his things.

“Yeah, yeah. Just call me. I gotta go,” Elliott waved to Sebastian with his free hand (the other one was holding his cello). Sebastian sighed as he waved back, thoroughly disappointed. “Bye, Sebastian.” 

It wasn’t until he heard his apartment door close that he remembered that Elliott never gave him his number. 

Sebastian sprung out of bed, not even bothering to put clothes on, and scrambled down the two flights of stairs to the city sidewalk. He managed to get there just in time to catch Elliott climbing into a taxi. 

“Wait! Elliott, hey! I didn’t get your number.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Elliott’s eyes lit up. He hurriedly fished through his bag to find a pen and scribbled his number on a gum wrapper. He then reached out of the taxi window to hand it to Sebastian. 

“Thanks, yeah.” 

“Hey, Sebastian. I owe you one,” Elliott winked as the taxi drove away.

“And by one, you mean an orgasm, right?” Sebastian yelled back, but Elliott was too far away at that point to hear him. 

Sebastian looked down at the number in his hand and smiled. Someone like Elliott was normally guaranteed to sleep with Sebastian about three times before things would get weird. So, Sebastian had about three incredible nights to look forward to. 

Yup, Sebastian was on top of the world. 

Entirely too pleased with himself, Sebastian turned around to head back to his apartment, only to be greeted by two figures standing outside the door, staring at him. It looked like a father and son. Probably tourists, judging by the suitcases they were dragging behind them. The father wasn’t terrible looking. He looked young considering the age of his son, who was probably ten or eleven. He wasn’t “ _cancel dinner plans with Quinn_ ” good looking, but Sebastian had definitely slept with worse. He stood up with weirdly good posture, resting his hand on his son’s shoulder, holding him close. They both looked completely shocked, and given what they just witnessed, Sebastian couldn’t blame him. It took him an immense amount of self control on Sebastian’s part not to burst out laughing at the situation. 

“Hey. Welcome to the neighborhood. We’re very friendly here,” Sebastian said. The father eyed Sebastian up and down, and gave Sebastian a judgmental glare. Sebastian glanced down at his current attire. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, and his pants were dangling around his ankles. He shrugged. “Casual dress code.” 

“Do you live here?” the man asked. 

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, yup.”

“What floor?” 

“Second. 202.” 

“Great,” the father sighed, looking thoroughly upset. 

A quick glance at the U-Haul parked next to the building sparked realization in Sebastian. 

“You’re the new neighbors. _Fuck._ ” 

“Do you not see that there is a child present?” the man hissed, reaching out to cover the boy’s ears. “He’s literally standing right here.”

“This is New York. He better get used to it.”

The man sneered at Sebastian, letting go of the boy’s head. Sebastian stuck out his hand to introduce himself. 

“I’m Sebastian.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know. I feel like we should do introductions when there’s a lot less of you flopping around.” 

“I’m Sebastian,” Sebastian repeated, unrelenting. The father gave him a long, steady glare before giving him a quick and firm handshake. 

“I’m Kurt, and this is my son, Alex.”

“Uh. Hi,” Sebastian managed, taking a second to look at the kid, who looked a lot similar to his father, except shorter and a bit rounder. He hadn’t made so much as a peep the entire time he and his father had been talking. He supposed that would be a good thing, in the grand scheme of things. The last thing he needed was a loud prepubescent boy running around next door. 

Kurt sighed. “I have to say, when I pictured us meeting our neighbors, I expected there to be a lot more clothing involved.” 

“Well,” Sebastian shrugged. “Welcome to New York.” 

“Oh, and for the future…” Kurt said suddenly. Sebastian turned on his heel to face him again. “My son is at a very impressionable age, so if you could keep your semi-nude sexual exploits inside your own apartment, I would really appreciate it.” 

“Just out of curiosity. In the past year, have _you_ had any exploits?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow, and let out a loud bark of laughter when Kurt rolled his eyes and stormed off, his son following his footsteps. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”


	2. About a Fictional Mason Smythe

“Come on, Q. The night is young and I’m itching to get out of here. There is this new bar that opened up-”

“Bas,” Quinn interrupted swiftly. “Come on. It’s a Tuesday night. The twins have school tomorrow.” 

“Right, yeah, I knew that,” Sebastian mumbled, disgruntled. 

He got this excuse on a daily basis. Quinn had three kids, two toddlers and a baby, and she spent nearly all her time bringing them to sports events or appointments or school. There was always something. Sebastian liked the kids, sure. Quinn had been his best friend since high school, so it would be downright cruel for him to dislike her family and offspring. But Sebastian would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the way his friendship with Quinn was before she got pregnant with the twins. The days where they would go out dancing until the early hours of the morning were long gone, picking up a few men along the way. Those were his glory days. 

“How are the little buggers, anyway?”

“Maybe you’d know if you’d made more of an effort to be a part of their lives,” came Quinn’s response. Sebastian cringed at the bitterness in her voice. 

“Hey, now. I make an effort.” 

“Bas, I’m not even sure that you know their names.” 

Even through the phone, Sebastian knew Quinn was giving him a questioning glare. 

“Of course I know their names!”

“Really?” Quinn challenged. “What are they?”

“Mason,” Sebastian answered, not missing a beat. 

“You only knew that because you pretended he was your son to get into a stranger’s pants.”

“And it worked. Briefly, but it worked.”

“One down, two to go.”

Despite the fact that Sebastian was quick to defend himself at Quinn’s accusation, he was definitely having to rack his brain to remember this one. He knew Quinn’s kids. He was at least partially confident that if you were to line them up with a bunch of other children, he would be able to pick out the ones that belonged to Quinn. And he had heard their names plenty of times. Quinn wouldn’t shut up about them. However, Sebastian normally chose those times to zone out, so the names were a bit fuzzy in his mind. 

“...Bess. And... C-... Carl? Conner? Calvin, that’s it. Bess and Calvin.”

“Beth and Cam. _Jesus_ , Sebastian...” 

“I just... haven’t had the time to hang out with your kids,” Sebastian said, but as the words left his mouth, he knew that it didn’t even sound a little bit like the truth. This was something that both Sebastian and Quinn knew very well. 

“Sebastian Smythe. That isn’t even remotely true,” Quinn said harshly, clearly with much more to say. Sebastian exhaled as he braced himself for what was sure to come. “You don’t have a job. You don’t plan on getting a job any time soon. You have absolutely no life trajectory planned out, and with all this free time of yours, you choose to do nothing productive whatsoever. You spend all of your time playing video games, eating junk food, and sleeping with men.”

Sebastian had no real response to offer her. “Guilty as charged.” 

“You just don’t like children.” 

“Also true,” Sebastian replied. “I hate children. They’re disgusting.”

Quinn sighed. “Don’t you want to settle down someday, Bas? Find a husband, start a family?” 

“I’d rather scoop out my eyeballs with a toothpick,” Sebastian said frankly. 

“You know, it could be good for you, Sebastian.” 

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t think-” 

“Crap. I gotta go. Beth won’t poop unless I’m right there holding her hand... I have to-”

“Gross. Yeah, go. I’ll go partying on my own tonight.” 

“Have fun, Sebastian. Don’t do anything that I’d consider stupid. And think about what I said? Please?”

“I won’t.”

“You’re insufferable.” 

“Love you, too, buddy.” 

xx

The prospect of going out alone seemed almost as sad as staying in, so Sebastian made an impulsive decision to call up Elliott to see if he wanted to go out. 

Impulsive decisions being Sebastian’s forte, he was particularly skilled when it came to convincing people to go out. With a little shove in the right direction, Sebastian was able to ensure that Elliott would be able to make it that night. Elliott somehow got his daughter to stay over a friend’s house, and he was free as a bird to spend the evening with Sebastian. 

With a sudden chunk of time available before Elliott would arrive, Sebastian wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself. So, he found himself thinking. 

Sebastian wasn’t thinking about what Quinn said. Not directly, and definitely not constructively. He wasn’t thinking about settling down. He wasn’t thinking about finding a man that would tie him down and would try to convince Sebastian to have a small army of little kids running around their house… No, Sebastian would sooner die. 

Sebastian was thinking about Mason. 

Not Quinn’s little snotball, his own, _imaginary_ little snotball. The one he made up to get Elliott to sleep with him. 

The truth was, Sebastian wasn’t father material. Sebastian’s experience with parenthood started and ended with fake cancerous Mason. He could _never_ be a father. He’d make a _shit_ father. He had said this to Quinn several times in the past, and when the notion was questioned or challenged, Sebastian would always use the same argument. He would bring up his own father’s shortcomings, which would _obviously_ have some effect on his own parenting abilities. 

“The pinnacle of negligence, Q. That’s what my dad was. He’s a terrible parent, and you know what they say about the apple falling out of the tree.”

“One of these days the damn apple is going to hit you in the head and you’ll realize what a jackass you’re being,” Quinn would reply. 

But here he was, 100% theoretically, imagining himself as a dad to a little, cancerous boy. 

It really was hard to picture. Sebastian had a carefully constructed lifestyle that involved as little interaction with children as humanly possible. When he wasn’t secluded at home with Netflix, he was out and about with friends, and more often than not, he would wind up back at his apartment with a guy he had never met before in his life. And it was a great set-up, really. The only people he spent time with were between the ages of eighteen and thirty, give or take a few years given the flexibility of appearances. 

So the idea of a kid was new, different, and entirely unappealing to Sebastian. But for whatever reason, something about him being a father was attractive to guys, and Sebastian had a hard time wrapping his mind around that. He hated children, he’ll say it again and again and again, but that’s not to say that Sebastian wouldn’t be good at raising one, not really. Maybe he wouldn’t be like his father, who really only cared about Sebastian when it was convenient for him, which most often happened to be when a lot of adults were around. Sebastian couldn’t imagine it would be that much harder to actually care where your kid ends up, to at least check in every so often. That wouldn’t be too hard at all. 

Not that Sebastian would want to be a father. He didn’t. No way in a million years. Not until hell freezes over. 

“Hey, Sebastian!” a voice shook Sebastian out of his trance and he swiveled around in shock.

“What the f-...” he began, stopping dead in his tracks when he laid eyes on the neighbor’s son, standing in the middle of his living room. How the _hell_ did he get in the middle of Sebastian’s living room? “Kid, this is my apartment. How did you get in here?”

“You left the door unlocked,” the boy - _Allen? Albert? Fuck, what was it?_ \- shrugged. 

“I did not...” 

_Albus? Wait, no, that’s the old guy from Harry Potter. Fuck, what was this kid’s name?_

“I mean, I’m grateful and all, but you should really start locking it. I mean, I could’ve been a criminal. Now _that_ would’ve been bad.” 

_Alex. That’s what it was. Alex. Probably short for Alexander or something. God, that’s a pretentious sounding name._

“Can I help you?”

Alex seemed completely and totally uninterested in whatever Sebastian was trying so say. He turned around and started wandering around the room, stopping underneath a bookshelf and pulling one off the shelf, opening up and flipping through. 

“Hey, whatever happened to the Warblers?” 

“My _band_? That was years ago. How did you know about my band?” Sebastian asked, astonished that he, or anyone besides himself and the other boys in the Warblers themselves knew about its existence. Sebastian reached forward and tore the book from Alex’s hands and reshelved it, although Alex seemed completely unphased. 

“Googled it. What’s it like to be arrested?” 

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t Google me.”

“Yeah, that’s not really up to you.” 

Sebastian could only stare as Alex walked right on over to his couch and plopped down, like it was his own. 

“So. My dad is working right now, and he’s in one of his ‘ _zones_ ’, which means he’ll be pretty much in his own little world for at least two hours. So I thought you could take me for ice cream.” 

“Excuse me, what?”

“Ice cream,” Alex repeated, talking a mile a minute. “My dad doesn’t let me have ice cream, because he thinks I’m lactose intolerant. But that’s just because of this one time when I was five, I ate an entire tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream while my dad was working, and then threw up everywhere. And I mean _everywhere_. My dad hasn’t let me touch dairy since.”

“You know what? I’m going to say that your dad probably knows what he is doing for this one.” 

“Well, I can’t be sure if I don’t try, right?” Alex stood up and stood close to Sebastian, almost too close. Sebastian took a few steps back, just in case. “I promise if I throw up, it will be in the toilet, and not on you.” 

“Are you crazy?” Sebastian asked, genuinely curious. 

“Please?” Alex begged, literally begged, and Sebastian was reminded of another reason why he hated kids. They were manipulative little shits with puppy dog eyes that made you want to fulfill their every desire. 

“No.” 

Alex opened his mouth, presumably to ask again, when they were interrupted by a knock on the door. 

_Fuck_. Elliott. 

“You need to hide.”

“What?” Alex blinked, confused. “Why?”

“I have someone coming over.”

“Like a boy?” Alex asked, not budging. 

“Like a _man_.” 

“But why do I have to hide?”

“Just until we’re out of the room. Then you can quietly sneak out the door and you can go back into your own apartment and with any luck on my part, never see me again.” 

“But-”

“No buts!” Sebastian interrupted, glaring at Alex before turning around to get the door. “Just hide.” 

“Hey, Sebastian,” Elliott greeted, voice low and unbearably sexy as Sebastian opened the door. 

“Elliott. Hey,” Sebastian put on his very best enticing expression, but noticed that Elliott wasn’t really paying him attention. Instead, he was looking behind Sebastian, into his apartment. 

“Is this Mason? Oh my god, he’s precious.” 

Sebastian turned around, and, sure enough, there stood Alex, who had apparently followed Sebastian to the door and was now standing a few feet behind the doorway, staring with the same blank expression that was on his face when they first met. 

So Sebastian had to improvise a bit more. 

“Uh. Yup, this is Mason.” Alex’s expression started to become apparently confused, so Sebastian was forced to act fast. “You know what? Mason actually has to go to bed now, so...”

“At two in the afternoon?” Elliott questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“He needs a nap.”

“He’s like ten years old.”

“It’s the leukemia.”

“I thought he was cured? You know, with the voodoo…”

“He’s in remission.” 

“Mason can speak for himself, you know,” Elliott was looking at the two of them, supposed father and son, with an uncomfortable amount of skepticism. Sebastian cringed, turning to Mason with an expectant glance. 

“Mason?”

“You know…” Alex began. Sebastian felt his heart drop somewhere deep in his stomach as he waited for Alex’s response. This could make or break it. “If it weren’t for my father, I would be dead right now. I owe you my life, dad.” 

Sebastian nearly cried with relief when Alex made his voice crack as he spoke, even tearing up near the end. Damn, this kid was a better liar than Sebastian was himself. 

In a final flourish to the scene, Alex launched himself at Sebastian and completely enveloped him in a hug. Sebastian cringed as he heard Alex’s whisper in his ear. “ _I own you_.”


	3. About a Surprise Visit

Conclusion: Alex, the twelve-year-old son of his next door neighbor, was a little bit insane. 

It turned out that Alex was definitely a better liar than Sebastian, and apparently extremely intelligent as well. It was hard to pry Elliott off of “Mason Smythe”. 

He was even able to spit off some stuff about African voodoo, which didn’t seem to have any shred of truth to it, but it was more than enough to reel in Elliott, who was now, as far as Sebastian could tell, fully convinced and enthralled in everything Alex, or Mason, had to say.

As useful as Alex was in that moment, Sebastian wasn’t going to take any chances. Immediately after he got home in the early hours of the next morning, Sebastian went around his apartment, making sure that every lock that could be locked was indeed locked. The last thing he wanted was Alex showing up in his living room at some other inopportune time. 

However, Sebastian would soon learn that just because Alex couldn’t just magically appear in his apartment, that didn’t quite mean that he wouldn’t show up at Sebastian’s doorstep. 

Sebastian was microwaving a Hot Pocket mid-afternoon on a Tuesday when he was interrupted by frantic knocking on his door, accompanied by a familiar voice. 

“Sebastian! Let me in, let me in.” 

“Nope. No way, I’ve had enough of your crazy for a lifetime. _Several_ lifetimes.” 

There wasn’t much Alex could say that would make Sebastian change his mind. Alex just happened to say the one thing that could. 

“I’ll be Mason whenever you want, just _please_ , let me in.” 

In theory, it should have been the desperation in Alex’s voice that made Sebastian cave. The idea of helping a poor boy in need of a safe haven. 

“Whenever I want?” Sebastian questioned. 

“Yeah, yeah. Please.” 

“Fine. Just don’t… touch anything.” Sebastian sighed and opened the door for Alex, and just as he was closing it behind him, he saw a group of four or five young boys, probably just around Alex’s own age, run through the halls. Alex was clearly being chased. Sebastian was… confused. 

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” Alex panted, out of breath. He immediately made himself at home, something that didn’t surprise Sebastian, not really, but astonished him all the same. He plopped his backpack on the floor and collapsed on the couch. 

“Why didn’t you just go to your place?” 

“I don’t want them to know where I live. They’d never leave me alone!” Alex said this like it was the most obvious conclusion. Sebastian groaned, because now they were never going to leave him alone.

“Who were those guys?” 

Alex shrugged. “Just some boys from school.” 

“Why were they chasing you?” 

“We were…” Alex trailed, at an apparent loss for words. “Playing tag?”

“As a self-proclaimed expert at lying, I’m going to call bullshit on that one.” 

“It wasn’t a lie.”

“Definitely a lie.” Alex just huffed in response, so Sebastian opted to try a more blunt method of interrogation. “Were those boys giving you a hard time?”

“I guess so.” 

“Why?” 

Alex frowned, refusing to make eye contact with Sebastian, who had his eyes trained on the kid, trying his best to figure him out. “They think I’m weird.” 

“Why didn’t you stand up for yourself? Kick their asses?” 

“Because I kind of like being alive?” Great, the kid had just as much sarcasm as his father. 

“What, so you just let yourself get picked on? Come on, kid, grow a pair.” Alex looked understandably bummed out by Sebastian’s response. Normally, Sebastian would consider it tough love and would’ve dealt out a lot worse, but this was a _kid_. Sebastian tried to shift gears again. “Does your dad know?” 

“No. No. We moved… A couple of times. I don’t fit in well, with other kids. And my dad is always so stressed, I don’t want him to worry about me and I don’t want to move again. I’m sick of moving.” 

Sebastian was never a guy to “cave”. It wasn’t in his nature. He was blunt, unrelenting, and a bit of a dick. Yet, this kid was so… he didn’t want to say “pathetic”, but it was the only word coming to mind. So, for the second time that day, and certainly not the last, Sebastian caved. 

“Okay, kid. You can hang low until you know these kids are gone. And then you are going home, got it?” 

“Got it.” Alex nodded. 

“Promise? You’ll actually leave?” 

“I promise. Thank you, Sebastian.” 

Alex lept off the couch and gave Sebastian an enthusiastic hug, clinging around his neck and letting his legs dangle. Sebastian, thoroughly uncomfortable, gave Alex a half-hearted pat on the back before unsuccessfully trying to wiggle his way out of the embrace. If Quinn Fabray could only see him now. 

X

Surprisingly enough, Sebastian thought his life would go back to normal. He actually thought that that would be the last time he would have to deal with Alex Hummel. 

Unsurprisingly, he was extremely wrong. 

One afternoon, Elliott showed up unannounced at his doorstep. Which normally would be a great thing. A couple of glasses of wine, some lowered inhibitions, and Sebastian would consider it a normal Wednesday afternoon. What Sebastian wouldn’t give for another normal Wednesday afternoon. 

One of the reasons it was _not_ a great thing was the small girl with raven black curls clinging to Elliot’s leg like a lifeline. 

“I brought Lacey over! I thought that she could hang out with Mason for a little bit.” 

“Mason?” Sebastian’s mind went blank for a second as he tried to remember who the hell Mason was. God, Mason as in Alex. Alex who was currently next door. How could Sebastian get Alex over to pretend to be his cancerous son if he was busy being Kurt Hummel’s actual real son, all without Elliott noticing something wasn’t quite right? Sebastian began to panic. “Right, yeah. Yeah, of course. Um, he’s actually hanging out with the neighbors right now. Just… Wait here.”

Sebastian wasn’t in any means a religious man. But occasionally he would shoot out a prayer in hopes that maybe someone would listen to him. If James Dean ever came back from the dead and offered to buy him a drink, Sebastian would probably drop everything and move to a monastery to devote his life to some god. 

Sebastian prayed that Alex Hummel was home, and he prayed that Kurt Hummel was not. 

Maybe there was someone looking out for Sebastian after all. 

The front door to the Hummel apartment was down down the hall to the left of Sebastian’s own door. He tried the door frantically with the hopes of it being unlocked, with no such luck. However, someone must have heard his struggle and the door swung open in front of him. Alex stood in the doorway, surprised but apparently happy to see him. 

“Oh, hey, Sebastian!” 

Sebastian didn’t bother with a greeting. “Alex. Alex. I need Mason.” 

Alex nodded, seemingly catching on right away. “I’ll need a pint of double chocolate chip ice cream and some of that root beer you keep in the fridge.” 

If Sebastian wasn’t standing one foot away from a twelve year old, he would have cursed loudly. “First of all, kid, it’s _not_ root beer, and don’t you dare touch it. Second of all, how the hell do you know what’s in my fridge?” 

Alex didn’t miss a beat. “Not important. Do we have a deal?”

Alex stuck out his hand and looked at Sebastian expectantly, who rolled his eyes and grabbed it quickly, shaking once before grabbing Alex’s wrist and dragging him back towards his own apartment. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just get in here.” 

Alex, unsurprisingly, continued to be the perfect actor. He had Elliott wrapped around his little fingers, which was partly a relief for Sebastian, as his elaborate web of a lie was still mainly intact. Also, however, Elliott’s newfound obsession with his fictional son was making Sebastian furious. He wanted nothing to do with this kid. This kid was invasive, persuasive, and just a little too quick on his feet for Sebastian’s liking. It was like having a fully grown, snarky adult as a fake son, and it put Sebastian on edge. He didn’t need Alex sticking around, especially with Elliott here. 

But also, what would getting rid of Alex entail? Telling Elliott the truth. Which, by all accounts, seemed to be a disastrous idea. There was no way Elliott would stick around if he found out that Sebastian lied about having a son. And then lied even further by saying that he skydives with him and brought him to Africa to cure his leukemia. None of that seemed forgivable. So, Alex had to stick around. At least for the time being. 

Things were going suspiciously well. Alex and Lacey had hijacked Sebastian’s Netflix account and were watching… Something meant for kids that Sebastian had never heard of. It was keeping them quiet. Sebastian and Elliott, meanwhile, were sitting at the kitchen table talking about music - the jazz band Elliott was working on, and Sebastian’s past life as a member of the Warblers. Conversation was easy between them, and Sebastian was looking forward to getting rid of the kids and getting back to some adult activities that he and Elliott had not yet got around to finishing. 

But since when in Sebastian’s recent life had things gone according to plan? 

The conversation was interrupted by frantic knocking at Sebastian’s front door. 

“Alex? Alex?” the voice at the door yelled, and Sebastian felt his insides cave in as he recognized the voice as Kurt’s. 

“Shit.” Sebastian cursed under his breath as he buried his face in his hands. Elliott stared at him, confused. 

“Aren’t you gonna get that?”

Sebastian looked up, wearing his best game face as he shook his head slowly. “No, it’s probably just another encyclopedia salesman. Or a mormon.” 

Elliott scoffed, standing up. “Nobody even does that anymore, Sebastian, Jesus. Let me see who it is.” 

“No, I’ll-” Sebastian started, but it was too late. Elliott had opened the door, and in stormed Kurt, in a panicked frenzy. He made a beeline straight to Sebastian, looking at him with the most serious and concerned expression Sebastian had ever seen. 

“Sebastian, have you seen Alex anywhere? I just got home, and he’s not in his room, or anywhere. Have you seen him?” 

“Who is Alex?” Elliott whispered to Sebastian. 

Sebastian bit his lip, frantically trying to think of something to say that would satisfy Elliott’s lie, but also stay close to the truth so Kurt wouldn’t catch on. He came up blank. 

And of course, because this was just about a perfect summary of how Sebastian’s evening was going, Alex popped up from the couch to greet his father. His actual father. 

“Oh, hey Dad! What are you doing here?”

Kurt crumbled, rushing to Alex and hugging him close. “Alex, thank God. I was so worried.” 

Elliott’s confusion was only growing. “Is this Mason’s other father? Also, who is Alex?”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed as he turned around to address Elliott, holding Alex closer. “He’s my son.” 

Elliot blinked. “That’s Mason.” 

“Mason?” It was Kurt’s turn to be confused. “Who is Mason?”

“He’s Mason,” Lacey said, pointing one of her fingers that wasn’t in her mouth at Alex.

Kurt shook his head slowly. “He’s Alex.”

“No, he’s Mason, Sebastian’s son,” Elliot said.

“ _Sebastian’s_ son?” Kurt scoffed.

“He has leukemia.”

“Does he now?” Kurt said incredulously. He was definitely catching on now. 

“I can explain-” Sebastian began, but Kurt was quick to cut him off. 

“I’m sure you can.” He turned to Alex, and spoke in a firm, fatherly voice. “Come on, Alex. Wash up for dinner.” 

“But Dad-” 

“Don’t you dare “but Dad” me now, Alexander Jude Hummel. I’ll talk to you later. And you,” Kurt turned to Sebastian with poison in his glare. Sebastian’s body turned ice cold in an instant. Sebastian had never been scared of a person his age before. There’s a first time for everything. Kurt inhaled sharply before continuing. ”I’m going to want a long explanation from you later, and that explanation better come with a full blown apology, which I can guarantee you now, I will not accept.” 

And with that, Kurt stormed out of Sebastian’s apartment, with his fictional cancerous son in tow. 

And he was left alone with Elliott. 

He waited a second before exhaling softly and turning around to face the music. 

“So he really isn’t your son?” Elliott said after a moment of Sebastian refusing to meet his eye. 

“No.”

“Do you even _have_ a son?” 

“No.”

Elliott let out a humorless laugh. “Does he even have leukemia?” 

“Not that I know of.”

Elliott scoffed. “I can’t believe you would lie about something like this.” 

“Well, I -” Sebastian started, but even he didn’t know where to go from there. It was pointless, and they both knew it. 

“If you are going to make an excuse, I’m so not interested.” Elliott snapped. He turned to his daughter, who was blissfully unaware of the chaos, her eyes fixed on some dancing penguins on the TV. “Come on, Lacey. We’re going home.” 

Elliott scooped up his daughter, gave Sebastian and lingering glare, and stormed out of the apartment, the same way Kurt had done just moments before. 

Sebastian started to consider moving across the country. 

A lifelong vacation in the tropics without any kids or fathers or people at all was sounding pretty good right now.


End file.
